


A Path Made of Light

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Romance, Love Confession, M/M, vigilante route post ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Bruce can't help but cling onto the hope that John isn't a lost cause, that perhaps he really can get better, and someday they maybe can be in a proper relationship.





	A Path Made of Light

“Why are you here, why do you keep coming here I mean?” John asked, wide green eyes confused and pained as he looked across the room at Bruce before looking away again. He nervously fidgeted with his fingers before smacking the palm of his hand against his forehead. “I mean, I’m happy that you’re here, I love seeing you….It’s nice y’know, after what I did, the things that happened, and I….I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again.” He rambled, voice quickening as he became more anxious.

The anxiety emitting from him was a feeling Bruce more than shared in, his own anxiety was eating him alive. Alfred had chastised him time and time again for these once a week visits, telling him that he’d already given John more chances than any one person deserved, but he couldn’t help it. Despite the terrible things John had done, the extreme violent in the wrong sort of justice he’d attempted to doll out on the people of Gotham….Bruce couldn’t hate him. In fact, he saw in John what he himself could have become, he knew what John felt in a way. He couldn’t judge him, not as harshly as he knew he should, and even beyond that there was something more drawing him in time and time again.

“What happened was…..It was partially my fault. I knew that you trusted me and I should have looked out for you more. I’m sorry.” 

The apology felt weak, it wasn’t the full of what he wished to say. Bruce glanced towards the metal door of the small room the two were sitting in. He could just make out the back of the guard’s head through the small rectangular window. He turned his gaze back to John who was staring down at his hands, almost as if he were too scared to look up.

“How do you do it, do what you do without killing someone?”

Bruce remained silent for a moment, it was a question with no real honest answer, so he went with the best he could offer without a full lie. “I don’t know….There are times things that I see, the horrible things I’ve seen people to do other people, and…..It’s hard.”

He thought about the video of his own father torturing Oswald’s mom, he felt sick remembering her screams and her sobs, her begging for him to not hurt her baby boy. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as much as he still loved his father he couldn’t help but be terrified that he was just one step away from becoming like that. Becoming a man who could gaze upon a suffering mother and easily ignore her pained screams and begging. 

“You’re…..You’re a good person Bruce, that’s why I don’t get why you still want to be around me. I’m not good, I don’t think I can ever be good.” 

He looked up again, looked into John’s saddened eyes. Bruce got up from his seat and moved to sit next to John on the small cot in the room. The other man eyed him cautiously as if unsure of this sudden closeness, Bruce could feel his heart pounding in his chest being near him. He remembered their conversations from before, before John was taken back to Arkham broken and filled with betrayal and rage.

“You aren’t evil.” 

Was that true? He needed it to be true, when John had returned after jumping off the bridge, with his black eye makeup and his terribly styled hair Bruce had had a stirring hope that there was good in him and maybe there was. 

Cautiously he took hold of John’s hand lacing their fingers together. “Joker-“

“John….It’s okay if you call me John again, just you though. I don’t want anybody else calling me by that name anymore.” 

Bruce smiled softly, nodding. 

“I want to help you John, I want to help you get better, I want to think that you can get better.”

“What if I can’t though, what if I can play nice and get released from here and the second I’m out I go on a mass killing spree?”

He paused for a moment as he looked at him knowing without a doubt he might be genuine in the theoretical statement, that it was less an example and more of a plan. The realization scared him, made him scared of his own feelings, of his own fear of losing this man.

“I like to believe that won’t happen.” He weakly responded.

Each time he talked to him he saw less and less of John and more of something else, more of the darkness he’d seen in those manic eyes the very first time they’d met in this very room.

“Why, why does it matter so much to you?” There was an edge in his voice, a frustration that he couldn’t get it into his brain why somebody like Bruce, like Batman could care this passionately about him.

“It’s because I love you, I love you and I want to think that you aren’t a lost cause. I don’t want to think that one day this will end in….” He stopped himself before going there. 

A heavy silence hung in the air, he closed his eyes when John began gently touching his cheek. He knew that emotions were a difficult thing for John, something torturous and terrifying for him, something they shared. Warmth bloomed in his chest when John kissed him, his chapped lips warm against his. Bruce placed a hand against his hip, thumb brushing up under his white t-shirt to touch soft warm skin. There was a fearful uncertainty in the way that John kissed him as if he never expected warmth and eager reception from somebody, as if nobody before wanted him in such a way. Bruce couldn’t help but want him, need him. He found himself carefully pulling the other man onto his lap, hands firmly gripping his hips as he held his body close against his own. Bruce moaned softly as John bit and sucked against his bottom lip. 

Loud banging against the door startled them, both turning their dazed attention in the direction of the noise. Through the barred window they saw the guard angrily looking in at them. Bruce smiled sheepishly, awkwardly waving at the guard and weakly apologizing. Once the guard turned away Bruce kissed John again, tangled his fingers in thick locks of green hair as he lay him back on the bed. He wished they were at the mansion, he wished they were in his comedically large bed with its expensive sheets and comforter where he could make love to him, show him that he was loved and desired. 

Bruce broke from the kiss, he pet his fingers through John’s hair as he gazed down at him. “I should go before the guard makes me leave.” 

John was quiet, stare fixed on Bruce as if he were the only thing that was real and maybe for John he was. 

“Could kill him, then we’d have at least half an hour before somebody would find out.” He hopefully suggested. 

Bruce forced a smile despite unease he felt at the suggestion, unease as he remembered that the man beneath him was indeed a killer. 

He pressed a kiss against his forehead before pulling back and getting up from the bed. 

“I promise I’ll be back next week, I’m sure I can work it out that I can visit more than once a week.” 

John got up from the bed straightening his clothes, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, trust me. I want to see more of you, I just wish…..I just wish circumstances were better.” 

The other man smiled sadly, “I suppose I did ruin the potential of that. I’m sorry, I know that I let you down.”

“You didn’t let me down.”

Every day he found himself wondering if different decisions would have lead to different outcomes, if it were possible that things could have turned out better for them, for John at least. 

“Time’s up.” The guard yelled from outside, once more banging on the door.

“Alright we heard you, you thick skulled moron!” John yelled towards the door.

“I should really get going now, I’ll see you next Tuesday.” 

He already was planning in his mind the sort of lies he could tell Alfred, he knew if he was going to up the amount of times he visited John that Alfred would most definitely become more concerned about this, about his closeness to the unstable green haired man.

John wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waist hugging him tightly, face buried against the side of his neck. “I love you Bruce,” he whispered against his neck, warm breath tickling his skin.

The words were a comfort, they carried a weight with them and a sense of fear. For now though for just one moment he was more than happy to hold him in his arms to pretend that just maybe John could get better, that he could check him out of Arkham and take him home where he belonged.


End file.
